Missing
by Dark-Phoenix22
Summary: The gang finds out a secret that could turn Dally's and their lives upside down.
1. Found

Disclaimer: I do not own The Outsiders and am not making any profit from the story.

Chapter 1: I Found You.

"SHUT Y'ALL," Two-bit yelled. "I can't hear this show."

The gang were all sitting in the living room on spread around on the furniture and the floor facing the T.V. A show about unsolved and found missing persons cases was on, the glow from the screen lighting up the dark room. Sodapop and Steve had been wrestling on the floor in front of the couch but they both stopped and stared at Two-bit. He wasn't even looking at them.

"Oh my god." Everyone turned to look at Johnny. He was staring at the screen in shock. A new story about a missing person came on. One of the unsolved ones. But it wasn't the story itself that shocked them into silence. It was the person it was about.

_"Over four years ago, thirteen year old Dallas Michael Winston was abducted from his home in California. The boy was believed to be taken by his father whom the family had taken out a restraining order on for child abuse and molestation. He was believed to be taken between 1:00 and 3:00 at night and was never seen by any of his family again. Greg Winston, the father, was reported seen all over the United States but none of the leads ever went anywhere. He disappeared from sight a year after the abduction and his where abouts are not known."_

A picture flashed up on the screen. Familiar pale blue eyes framed by platinum blond hair stared at them from a much younger face than the one they were used to seeing.

_"The last time he was spotted he appeared to be heading down towards the Cleveland and Tulsa area. Dallas Winston was believed to be seen once but the body has not been found leaving experts to believe that he could still be alive. _

_Dallas is an albino child of about 5'6" with a slender build, blue eyes and jaw length hair. He was last seen wearing blue jeans, boots, a black shirt and a leather jacket. The teenager would be about 17 years of age at this time and if you have any information of his whereabouts could you please call us at the number disclosed below. _

_The family still has hope that Dallas could still be out there and would like to thank you for your help in the search for this missing person." _

The gang continued to stare in shock at the screen as the narrator gave a brief history of the family and showed a picture of what Dallas should look like today. Steve turned off the T.V. when the story was over and twisted around to stare at the group sitting in shocked silence on the couch.

A sound made them all turn towards the door. Dally was standing there, his blue eyes still focused on the screen even though it was turned off. Anger was slowly filling his face, pink flushing across his pale cheeks. He glared at them.

"Stay out of this," he hissed venomously at them. "Mind your own business and things will stay the way they are. Leave it and no one will get hurt." Spinning on his heel he raced back out the door, letting it slam behind him.


	2. Running Away

Disclaimer: See previous chapter.

Chapter 2: Running Away

As Dally ran out of the house he could feel his heart pounding in his chest. _'They found out! Oh my god, they found out!' _He raked a hand through his hair, his fingers catching in knots making him wince.

He glanced towards his house. If the gang called the fuzz he was a goner. He meant that literally. His father would kill him and escape. Or slice him up a bit for show then skip town with him in the trunk again. If the police even bothered to show up that is. The fuzz didn't like Greasers and they liked Dallas Winston even less.

He couldn't believe that in all the times that he had gotten himself arrested they had never made the connection between himself and the file on the missing child. How stupid could they get? There weren't that many albinos living in the Tulsa area and even less that were the right age. Like one.

Turning into his driveway, he dragged his feet until he got to the door. The gang thought that Johnny had it bad at home. What Johnny got was nothing compared to him. Why did they think that he went to jail all the time? He wasn't stupid enough to get caught doing the things that he was caught doing, he let himself get caught to put off going home.

Normally he would go to the Curtis's or Buck's or someplace, he had even spent nights in the lot but now the Curtis's were out and Buck had told him not to come back for at least a few weeks, and the gang would almost definately find him in the lot. So far he had managed to get them to think that he took care of himself better than he did, but if they found him there, that would totally ruin whatever pieces of reputation he had left.

Taking off his shoes on the porch he painstakingly slowly open the door and crept inside. Holding his shoes in one hand, he closed the door soundlessly with the other. As he passed the door to the living room he looked in and promptly wished he hadn't.

A large fist came flying into his face, spinning him around and knocking him to the floor. "WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN FOR THE LAST TWO WEEKS!" A kick to the ribs knocked the wind out of him along with any hope of answering. Dally felt a whimper escape him as the foot connected with his side again. His father wore his boots all the time, something about always being ready to move or run away. And they were steel toed.

"Get up off the floor you pansy!" Greg Winston's large hand wrapped itself around Dally's hair and simultaniously jerked him up and threw him towards the stairs. Dally lept to his feet and tried to escape up the stairs to the safety of his room and the lock on the door. He didn't make it.

A hand wrapped around his belt and threw him down on the landing. Hot breath blasted across his face as he was flipped over. Lust filled eyes pinned him to the floor. Rough hands ripped his belt from the loops and broke the button off his pants, sending it bouncing down the stairs. Hardness pressing into his thigh made him catch his breath with a gasp.

The fabric of his jeans scraped his skin roughly as they were pulled down his slender legs. His boxers soon followed and his slim body was bent awkwardly as his father lifted his hips to sit in his lap, Dally's legs on either side of him. "NO!" Dally yelled when he felt Greg grinding into him. He tried vainly to push him away, almost delicate hands having no effect on his bear of a father.

The penetration when it came was worse than any encounter with his father that he had had yet. Dally's back arched sharply as he screamed in agony, fire racing up his spine and abdomon. His father's grip on his hips kept him from sliding off of his blood slick member. He gradually stopped fighting as his father continued to thrust into his unwilling body. Tears streaked his face, soaking into his platinum hair. When his father finally came, his only reaction was a sharp grunt as the salty liquid burned his torn insides.

Dally continued to lay there as his father pulled out and for some time after. He didn't even try to move until he heard his father pass out with a THUMP in the living room.

Gingerly pulling himself to a sitting position, Dally winced as he felt his torn insides break open again. Tears leaked out of his eyes as he pulled himself up the stairs to his room. Slowly he put a bunch of clothes into his old school bag along with a few odds and ends from around his room that he wanted to keep. He wouldn't be coming back again. Ever.

Making his way slowly down the stairs he averted his eyes from the large drying pool of blood on the landing feeling sick to his stomach. Getting his sneakers from the living room door, he put them on outside on the walk.

Making his way down the road with his arm around his stomach and his back hunched under his backpack he headed for the lot. Looked like he was going to be staying there for awhile.

Sinking down on an old couch that someone had left there he looked around. _'Home sweet home._'


	3. Take me home

Chapter 3

Dally lay on his back on the uncomfortable couch watching the leaves blow overhead. Trees surrounded the couch and some of the branches provided a slight overhang that kept the couch mostly dry. Springs in the cushions dug sharply into his back and every once in a while, when the wind blew particularly hard, a piece of stuffing would fall out and blow past his face into the night.

The stars were partially obscured by thickening clouds and the air felt heavy. A storm was coming, and by the looks of it there was going to be quite a light show. _'_ _Maybe I should go to the_ _Curtis's'_ he thought idly. Yeah, he probably should, but he couldn't get up the effort to move off the couch and walk to their house. He just wanted to see the lightning and feel the rain washing off all the filth that his father had left on him with his touch.

While he was thinking, the clouds had completely covered the stars and now opened up above him with a flash of lightning. The thunder rolled across the sky the same time as the rain hit the ground making it seem like the rain had made the sound. Blue streaks glowed across his vision. Within minutes he was soaked to the skin from the large thunderstorm raindrops. Thunder storms always seemed to want to be over fast so they let all the rain go at once. The rain was freezing and his shivering was a painful reminder of what had happened earlier in the day, as the shakes and clenching muscles made blood start to run from his torn bowels again.

Dally registered the feeling only remotely as the rain had numbed most of his body and the lightning overhead had hypnotized him to the point of not caring.

* * *

Sometime during the storm he had dozed off and he woke to the 4:30 light in the sky. Clouds wandered across the sky lit by the yellow light of false dawn. Dally groaned and levered himself up into a sitting position. Pain sliced up through his abdomen and almost knocked him back down. The world spun dizzily before his eyes and he slumped against the back of the couch. His hands felt something sticky on the soaked couch and when he raised them up in front of his face, red was dripping from his slender fingers. He looked down to see fresh blood staining the couch on top of the dry stain from the night before. Dry blood also stained his shirt and skin. Dally gave a short laugh. It looked like he had been in a knife fight.

Fighting to get to his feet, he gasped as the flow of blood increased. _'I need help_,' he realized. It might totally ruin his reputation but he could feel the darkness creeping up on him again, and there was a finality to it this time that hadn't been there the night before. Picking up his backpack, he stumbled down the road towards the Curtis house.

The few people that he thought were crazy for being up at this time stared in shock as they watched him weave his way down the sidewalk. He absently noticed that there was a trail of blood drops leading back to the vacant lot as he stopped to lean against the fence around the Curtis's house. Pushing himself away from the fence he swayed dangerously before collapsing to the ground. Darkness was creeping across his vision as he painfully, and slowly dragged himself up the stairs and banged on the door.

As he collapsed fully onto the floor, he could hear footsteps and groggy voices complaining about being woken up so early. Those voices changed into yells of horror, shock and surprise at the sight of Dally splayed out on the step covered in blood.

Someone wrapped their arms around him and pulled him into their lap and Dally started to struggle as memories of the day before assaulted his mind. The person jerked back in shock as Dally flailed in their grasp and started to whisper soothing words in his ear when they realized that he was afraid.

Dally's energy was spent fast and he looked up into the person's face that held him. Darry.

"Help me," he whispered as he fell unconcious. "Please, help me."

* * *

Soooooo... What do ya'll think? Is this going anywhere? 


	4. Threatened

Author's Note: I am sorry I took so long to update this story! I had so many ideas for different fics that some of them I just didn't have time for. Thank you to all those who reviewed telling me to get my butt in gear again and finish. I will try to finish this story really soon now that I have it rolling again.

Chapter 4

Detective Randall of missing children had been working on a case when his partner came into his office almost ecstatic with the chance to get out of the stuffy office and outside.

"Hey Randall, we got a case." The detective sitting at the desk looked up and focused on the younger man leaning against the door frame.

"Young white male checked into hospital a few hours ago with severe internal injuries. Consistent with rape." Randall blinked at him.

"This has what to do with us? We're not the ones who take those cases." The younger detective sighed.

"I know, but they said that you were requested specifically"

Randall sighed, putting down the file in his hands. He had been going over some of the old files of missing children in his jurisdiction trying to relate them to any reports in the last year or so. He had solved previous old cases by doing so and hoped that he might do so again.

One of the ones he most regretted was the case of the young Winston boy. It was a case taken from another jurisdiction when the suspect had been seen heading towards his town. He ran his fingers gently over the picture of the albino boy. He was a pretty boy and had probably grown up to be a very beautiful teenager. He sighed, if he had grown up at all. To have to leave the child with a rapist was a blow to the heart, made worse by the fact that they had never found him. He felt as if he had let the child down by not saving him, but maybe if he kept looking, he might find him. Standing, he grabbed his suit jacket and slipped it on while gesturing his younger partner towards the door.

* * *

The doctor met them at the front desk, a tall man with graying hair and a nervous smile. He shook their hands politely and introduced himself as Dr. Howard as he led them to the elevator, pressing the button for the 4th floor. The sign 'Intensive Care' on the wall across from the elevator doors when they opened told them that the injuries were bad. Coming to a stop outside a closed door, the doctor took an audible breath and turned to face them.

"I didn't want to tell you this over the phone, but I requested you specifically for a reason"

Randall looked at him patiently. The doctor took another deep breath. "I was watching a show on missing children on TV last night and I believe this young man might be one of the children I saw. He was barely conscious when he was brought in but he told me his name before he went under," he paused.

Randall's partner stirred beside him. "Well what was it?" The doctor looked at them square on for the first time since they had arrived.

"Dallas Winston"

His partner heard the sudden sharp intake of breath before Randall was pushing past him and the doctor towards the door, leaning in to see through the tall, skinny window. He frowned upon sighting the small crowd of scruffy teenagers surrounding the bed, blocking the view of its occupant.

"Who are they?" he asked, turning to face the doctor again.

"Friends of the teen, they are the ones who brought him. Stayed here the whole time until he got out of surgery. They've been there ever since."

Randall gestured to the door.

"Can we go in?" The doctor started.

"Oh, yes. Here let me, I will ask them to wait outside."

The detectives waited outside as the doctor opened the door and went inside, speaking quietly to the occupants of the room. They only protested a bit before being silenced by the only seeming adult in the room and ushered out, staring at the detectives as they passed. Randall stopped them as they started moving down the hall.

"You are the ones who brought him in?" The tall man nodded.

"Then I'm sorry, but I am going to have to ask you to stay. I'm going to need statements from you all as well."

One of the younger men seemed about to protest but was silenced by a look from the older man.

"We'll be here. Anything to help Dally."

Randall felt a rising of hope in his chest at the nickname. Maybe, just maybe, the boy in the bed was the one he was searching for. Motioning to his partner, who snorted as they turned away from the young men, mumbling "greasers" under his breath he stepped into the room. Walking around the bed to join the doctor who was checking the machines attached to the slender figure in the bed, he froze as the boy's face came into view and stared. There was no question that the boy in the bed was Dallas.

He was right; the boy had grown into a beauty. He had an almost delicate face with perfectly white skin, clear ice blue eyes stared out at him surrounded by snowy lashes. Hair about shoulder length lay around his head, wisps gently grazing his cheekbones. His body was clearly outlined under the thin blanket over him, slender and long, delicate hands resting on the sheets. He looked at the boy's face again and flushed.

Blue eyes were glaring at him out of a face twisted into a scowl. Dallas had seen him looking over his body and was not impressed. The pointed chin came up and his lip curled, showing even white, but slightly pointed teeth.

"You's got somethin' ta say ta me?"

Beside Randall his partner winced. The boy's thick New York accent had meshed with the local one, turning the boy's speech into a twisted sounding, almost southern drawl. His words and the appearance of the boys that were waiting in the hall clicked together in Randall's mind. That explained how they had not found Dallas before; the police don't pay much attention to greasers.

A muted thud from out in the corridor made him glance towards the door, but after no repetition, he ignored it and pulled out his notebook and a pen.

"I know this is going to be hard, but I need you to tell me what happened. We need information if we are going to catch the one that assaulted you." Dallas froze, eyes shifting around nervously.

"It was nothing, I'm alright." Randall sighed. This was why he had never liked investigating assault cases.

A louder thud from the hall and the distant sounds of shouting reached his ears and he turned to the door in time to see it swing open to admit a tall, heavily muscled man. The relation to Dally was obvious although the man was not an albino, but the resemblances between the two wasn't what held his attention. It was the gleaming barrel of the shotgun pointed directly at him.

tbc...


End file.
